Warden's Embrace
by Kanariya 9
Summary: Semi AU, Human Thresh – The life of a sheriff is a rigorous one, not made any easier by the arrival of a new warden. But it seems that Thresh is more than just a troublesome warden and Caitlyn could be unsuspectingly falling into a predicament. When the Warden and the Sheriff cross paths, what will come of it? Long-ish story, May turn M.
1. Chapter 1

_First time writing a fan fic. Yes this is a crack pairing but I've grown fond of it due to a certain someone *cough Veltrops cough* who ships it (read his fic - 'Chained Heat', the original and first __Caitlyn x Thresh fic._)

_Feedback or reviews would be much appreciated, if you see any spelling errors, grammar problems, loopholes in plot etc please give a shout and tell me._

_One NB, I have may or may not have done some god modding so some things might have changed e.g lore discrepancies or odd SR rule etc although I do try to keep to the lore. And __yes there may be similarities between this and Chained Heat it. M_ay turn M rated in the future.  


_Shout out to Veltrops, this is dedicated to you._

_And now for the story. Hope you enjoy._

* * *

As the Sheriff of Piltover, Caitlyn wasn't unfamiliar with the prisons and what usually happened in them. As such she avoided the prisons if she could - that was the warden's job.

Piltover's prisons were some of the best in Valoran - in the sense that their capacity for prisoners was the largest and the regulations for them the strictest. Unfortunately, the great capacity and stern regulations were hardly something to boast about. They had only risen about as mere consequences of the high crimes rates that had plagued Piltover and neighbouring areas. In fact, the term 'City of Progress' had only been dubbed relatively recently, after Caitlyn had single-handedly cut down the crime rate by half within the space of a month since she became Sheriff - which had been no small task mind you.

Since then, crime rates had decreased drastically and the prisons had been filling up steadily in turn. Managing such a large cohort of criminals was not an easy task and definitely not one Caitlyn was adept in - catching them was her thing, dealing with them, no so. As such, she had laid out stringent regimes and guidelines for the treatment of the prisoners and had always sought to employ the choicest of wardens to uphold them. What stood Piltover's prisons apart from others where these rigorous regulations; reforming of criminals was one the top priorities of her prisons systems, compared to other systems in Valoran. Nevertheless, as with all prisons, there were riots and dogfights and detestable activities that could never really be eliminated thoroughly - only contained, which more than sufficed.

But as of lately, reports had been coming in that the prisoners were getting progressively more and more restless.

It had started - pretty much out of the blue - around a month or so ago, when there were reports of eerie howling and wailing in the dead of night. A sting of strange occurrences had followed, one week where they had been incredibly violent and savage and another week they were all unfoundedly ecstatic. Strangely, this was all not long after the addition of a particular prisoner, although she highly doubted it was due to his arrival. She had pretty good reason to believe that the timing was a mere trivial coincidence; the measures they took to subdue him should have seen to any havoc he could cause.

Then again, who knew the extent of his powers?

Nevertheless, _someone_ had to see to the state of the prisons. It didn't help either that the current warden had taken a rather sudden absence leave, mumbling something about needing 'a break from all this crap', which was rather out of character. Personally, she couldn't see what was wrong, that man had always been a top of the notch warden and had always coped well, why was he suddenly bending under the pressure?

Picking up her keys, Caitlyn headed out for the prisons, closing her office door behind her. She had been putting this off for a while now but she couldn't just leave things up in the air. If the situation was really going to the dogs, she'd have to do something about it. Strike a new deal to deport some prisoners to Demacia or, if need be, Ionia perhaps. Reinforce the prisons and rework the system and whatnot. And probably call for another, stricter warden.

Walking down the streets, Caitlyn greeted the usual familiar faces, the bakery owner, the postman and the occasional champion. Piltover may be renowned as the City of Progress but as of late, it was anything but. Recently things had been quite hectic, almost as bad as when she had first started cleaning up the crooks. And word was that they were all the doings of one notorious girl.

If that was true, she will have to be dealt with severely but first things first.

Caitlyn arrived at the Piltover Prison rather swiftly; after all, she knew the streets well. Nodding towards the guards, she pushed open the large iron gate, the gears and cogs on it whirling the door shut behind her.

She was instantly assaulted with a distinct smell characteristic of old bluestone jails. The air inside was much cooler than outside, stained with a damp mouldy scent from water trickling down through the cracks in the stone walls. Faint beams of sunlight filtered in from the few barred windows high in the cells and there was the smell of rust and cold earthly matter within the chilly air.

Her clicking footsteps echoed across the bluestone floors as she made her way down the corridors, rousing the slumbering prisoners from their alcoves. A few of them feebly clung to the bars, dragging their chains along the stone floors, rags of clothes hanging from their bodies. A couple of hands shot out at her, trying to grasp at her or trip her, she didn't know.

Most of them though, stirred by the clicking announcement of her presence, were riled up - rowdy and unruly; spitting at the floor in front of her and making obscene gestures, shouting out at her sexist slurs and foul vulgarities. Perhaps more extreme than she had imagined, but this kind of behaviour wasn't completely outside of her expectations; one could imagine they would be far from happy to see the very officer that had booted them to jail.

She had to admit though, she probably should have known better to wear this uniform to the prisons. Caitlyn sighed mentally. A short dress and knee high boots practically just called for unsolicited attention, especially more so from this unruly lot. What better way to show your spite at the one person who bought you down to this level than classical sexist profanities. She ignored a rather crass comment from behind her on just what, or to be accurate, _who_ exactly she should be doing in that outfit. Whatever, they had to find amusement somehow or other, poor crooks. And hey, this was her usual uniform she and was the _Sheriff_ - she could damn well do what she wanted anyways. Just not his crude suggestion. Not to mention she was only visiting briefly to get a handle on the situation. And to check up on _him_, but that was just because she had already subjected herself to coming here anyways.

Dodging a flying projectile of bodily fluid, she made a strict mental note to wear something more conservative next time she visited though.

Hopefully sometime far in the future.

Turning around the corner, Caitlyn continued through the prison, inspecting the situation. The reports from the guards of prisoners getting more restless definitely seem to be true – there was much ruckus throughout all the cells - and the cells themselves were rendered in a filthy state. It looked like she would have to find some way to sort out the state of the prison; it had never been so horribly derelict before.

She sidestepped a large puddle of questionable green slime, absentmindedly checking the locks on a couple of doors. Flicking out a pen and notepad, she jotted down notes on the areas that sorely needed to be seen to before heading straight for the large brass door at the end of the corridor.

There was an intricate and extensive amount of humming gears and cogs on its surface, interwoven between metal bars and knobs, all connected to three large locks along the sides. The air around the cell hummed and buzzed from the ticking hextech locking system and the rim of the metal door glowed with runic energy. In the centre was a hatch which Caitlyn proceeded to slide open, revealing a dimly lit chamber with a hunched figure seated within.

He was unnaturally still compared to the rest of the prisoners, seated motionless in the centre of the room with a cloak draped around his body and rune inscribed chains locked onto all his limbs. Not just any kind of prisoner would be put into this cell; he was a special case, this one. And a champion too at that.

Satisfied with her quick check-up on him, she slid the hatch shut with a click before turning away and completing her round through the prisons and noting what else needed to be seen to.

Caitlyn left the building rather swiftly after she had jotted down everything, glad of the fresh air and warm sun outside. Unconsciously, she gave herself a quick brush-down on her way back to her office for her regular work.

Looked like she had a lot of calling to do

* * *

A few days later Caitlyn received a notification on her desk from the authorities; there was a temporary replacement warden on the way, sent in from far north apparently.

Just in time too. She had just called in help to fix the neglected state of the prison a few days ago and yesterday she had reworked the systems for the prisions, upping the security and maintenance measures around it. All she needed was the new warden now.

Flicking through the sheets, Caitlyn glanced at his picture. Dark hair in braids that ended in clasped hooks, sharp green eyes, pale washed out skin, small scar down the side of his chin and rather angular face. He looked peculiar but passable. She quickly scanned his general information. Height 189cm, weight 89kg, age 29, blood type AB. No record of misconduct or any felonies and a clean profile. Strange, such a highly proficient and capable warden by the looks of it yet she had never heard of him before, even when she had scouted for wardens previously. Perhaps he was a rather new prodigy.

'Previous employment: Had been a warden for the prisons in the Shadow Isles.'

Caitlyn subconsciously gave a humph of disdain. Shadow Isles huh? No good had ever come from there, not that she had heard of. A rather shady and unknown place by what she had caught from scuttlebutt on the docks. That could explain why she had never heard of this warden before.

Personally she wasn't very fond of the Shadow Isles and their residents from what she had gathered but in any case, she needed a warden rather pressingly.

What niggled at her was how had they had found such a warden? A man who had an impeccable profile and was adept in his field. What would attract someone of his caliber to accept placement at a comparatively average prison in Piltover? One would figure that Demacia with their power and justice and all that would've snapped up a warden as accomplished as him.

Plus - she flicked to the back - his references were all incredibly good. Uncannily so. Such a flawless profile had set off quite a few cautious alarms in her head. She knew better than anyone that if it looked too good, you'd better get out. And judging by his profile, he was too damn good. The questions was, what would she need to get out from?

Closing the file, Caitlyn went back to her paperwork. She'd have to go analyse him in person for a proper impression by the looks of his suspiciously meticulous profile. And, according to the notice, he was to arrive later today. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a small grin at the prospect of a new interrogatee.

Time to go and grill this new warden.

* * *

_(Credits to SiaKim on DeviantArt for the picture "League of Legends : Thresh Human ver.")_


	2. Chapter 2

The streets were busy today; Sunday was the usual shopping day for everyone and the city center was crowded with people enjoying the balmy weather and procuring groceries for the week coming. Caitlyn made her way through the bustling city centre, unfolding and checking her note.

The meeting was to be held at the authority headquarters, situated in the centre of Piltover and less than a minute's walk from her office. A little further down was the city treasury, a grand and golden building overlooking the sparkling docks and the shining beacon of Piltovian pride in hextech security.

Arriving at two on the dot, Caitlyn pushed open the building's entrance doors, approaching the receptionist and registering her name before being directed down a hallway to her left. Passing through an archway, she scanned the doors down the hallway before finding what she was looking for. Double checking against her note to be sure, she knocked on a wooden office door with a small metal name holder proclaiming it to be Neek Naman's office. A middle-aged man, presumable Mr Naman himself, opened the door and gestured for her to come in.

Closing the door behind her, she instantly noticed that the new warden was already present. He was standing by the corner of the room, idly regarding a collection of legislative books atop a shelf. At her entrance, he threw her a cursory glance before resuming his disinterested judgment on Naman's taste in literary readings.

It was hard not to notice his presence in fact, seeing as he exuded a peculiar aura that she couldn't quite pin down. Something a little off, not enough to daunt but enough to leave a kind of premonition - a questioning wisp in the air. Not to mention he was also dressed rather bizarrely in what can only be described as a long, dark green trench coat of some sort with, what appeared to be, intricate skulls attached on the sides and chains coming from the mouths of said skulls.

Quite beautiful, in a way. If you're into that kind of thing.

He was wearing a white shirt inside with an inappropriately low neckline and a pair of unusual clawed gloves of sorts. Truly one of the more eccentric - if not outlandish - outfits she'd ever seen and that was including that god awful fifth age costume Taric had worn once. There was a soft tinkling as he shifted to read the next row of book titles; an assortment of disciplinary publications. The chains from the skulls coiled and looped themselves over his arms, one ending in a hovering, luminous lantern whilst the other ended in a weapon somewhere between a sickle and a scythe which he held by his side.

She couldn't tell if it was the scythe itself or just a trick of the light but it appeared to be emitting a faint glow that seemed to almost pulsate. Either way, it was an eerie green colour and the edges looked rough and rock hewn.

As to why he would feel the need to bring a lantern and a scythe into an _office interview _though, that was beyond her.

Caitlyn was already having doubts about this new warden.

Stepping forward, she stiffly extended her hand in introduction. He turned and raised an eyebrow, eyeing her for a second in mild amusement before leisurely extending his own hand, clamping hers in a tight handshake that left her fingers a little sore. She flashed him a sharp, disapproving glare before seating herself down. A small smirk formed on his lips at her glare, receiving it with indifferent amusement as he seemed content to stay standing to the side.

Mr Naman settled himself down in his armchair before rattling off the standard introductions and overviews, listing out the rules and regulations that he was to follow. Just the usual - work hours, pay, available services, protocols and etc; tedious but necessary and important information nevertheless. He, on the other hand, didn't appear to be even listening properly, causally swinging his scythe dangerously close to the corner of the mahogany table whilst Naman was explaining how the prison system here worked.

His disregard for formality and something about his general presence was starting to irk her; first impressions were generally right and from this man, he spelt trouble. What kind of a damn warden did these insolent authorities find her? She might have to go have a word with them about their standards and definition of 'accomplished'.

She cast a sidewards glance at him.

There was something, though, about his posture. The way he held himself, the slight tilt of his head, the glint in his eyes.

Perhaps she shouldn't jump the gun just yet. Caitlyn leant over to absently sign the contract Naman had whisked out as he was finishing off with his protocol speech, handing the form over to the new warden for his signature as well.

Who knew, he could end up proving her impressions wrong. He was, after all, 'highly recommended' and by the prison staff in Demacia no less.

With the contract signed off, Naman rolled it up and tucked it into his drawer. He fished out the necessary keys to the prison cells and one for the warden's own allocated office, handing them to him. Surprisingly, he declined the key for his office, unclasping it from the cluster and placing it on the desk. Mr Naman was about to protest but the dark look from his eyes silenced him; the decision was closed, he did not need the key.

Grumbling about something or other, Naman pocketed the discarded key and finished with a few final words before impatiently ushering them out of his office.

Caitlyn thanked him before closing the door, turning around ready to interrogate this new warden. She bumped into his chest, having not realised he was quite so close behind her. Or that he was quite tall, at least a good half a head or so taller, meaning she had to look up at his face. His dark eyes looked down at her mockingly, as if he knew she was not quite in a superior position now.

"Your name is Thresh, yes?" Caitlyn shot at him.

He made no inclination of replying, merely regarding her outfit before returning his attention back to her. Caitlyn glared back at him, trying to pry an answer from him with her eyes. On her good days one of these glares was enough to make even the innocent want to admit their past crimes. It didn't seem to have any effect on him, though, especially so seeing as she had to look up to him. She tried again.

"You are from the north of the Shadow Isles?"

He smiled.

"Yes." He hissed his reply, his voice almost giving Caitlyn a jolt. His voice was deep and carried a hint of an echo yet there were undertones of something unnameable, something that her mind told her she should caution. She shook it off; he was her subordinate now and she was the one in charge around here.

Her apparent shock at his voice appeared to amuse him more, his lips curling into a malicious grin. Composing herself, she continued on.

"Good. Come with me. We need to get you settled in." She stepped a little to the side facing away from him.

Thresh's hand came down forcefully on the door inches from her face, barring her way. Turning back to him slightly irritated, she found herself staring right into his cold eyes, his body leaning forward possessively over her. The sheer proximity was uncomfortable to say the least, making her want to instinctively back away. Pressing her back against the door, she defensively crossed her arms over her chest, glaring daggers back at him.

"Here's as good a place as any to interrogate me, don't you think, Sheriff?" His tone was mocking, seeing through what she had in mind. Gritting her teeth, Caitlyn held bit down on the snappy reply that had formed on her tongue. She wanted to analyse him, not piss off the damn mark and render his projections inaccurate. Although judging by his unperturbed expression, she'd have a had time provoking as rash a reaction as anger out of him. She paused for a few second to collect herself mentally before forcing a calm smile.

"In that case then, how many years' experience do you have?"

"13."

"Had troubles with prisoners?"

"Never."

"How well do you manage the prisons?"

"Perfectly."

"Previous duties you've undertaken as Warden of the Shadow Isles."

"Security. Keeping the… _prisoners _in check. Playing with them."

At this he smiled ominously, as if recalling something amusing.

"After all, being in prison can get so _very_ boring."

"How hospitable of you." Caitlyn's tone was cynical as she brushed through to her main question.

"And no records of any misconduct, criminal activity or past misdemeanours?"

She eyed him sceptically, her voice laced with contempt as she analysed his face. He most definitely did not feel like the squeaky clean warden that his profile proclaimed. No one could be this perfect... could they?

"Impeccably so."

He had answered all her questions with an impassive face, one that betrayed nothing. She was still highly doubtful about him; it was almost impossible to get a clear reading from him. His facial expression, eyes, posture, gestures, intonations. Nothing. All veiled and murky without giving a single hint of the man within.

Usually by now she'd be able to deduce what kind of a person she was dealing with, an introverted narcissist with sadistic flair or a seasoned veteran with a hardened heart or a lawful and rigorous leader who had a soft spot for kittens. Wardens came in all kinds and most she could learn to manage, only really the ones who slack off gave her anything to be bothered by.

Eying him again, Caitlyn considered if she should pursue her questioning or weigh up her analysis of him. How much more would it take to read this man - if he could be read at all? Pursuing her questioning could elicit something from him but it didn't seem likely at this point, what with everything about him being so murky. And to what extent would it be worth dragging a reaction out of him just to satisfy her own code? His chains clinked quietly as he stood there leaning over her, an amused expression on his face as he waited for her to decide - as if he already knew that she would have to accept him.

And he was probably right about that, she did after all need a warden rather pressingly and it would be no easy matter to ask for a different one. She may not be able to judge him fully for herself but well, he was acclaimed and approved for by so many. That should account for _something _at least_, _even if she was skeptical about them. Plus, how would she explain why she didn't want this warden? Because she didn't like the kind of _vibe _she got from him? That would hardly be an acceptable reason for the authorities to find another warden for her.

Looking at him again, Caitlyn noticed the faint scar on his chin. She briefly wondered how he had gotten it but just as quickly she flicked the question away – she needed to decide now if he passed or not.

He seemed like a man of few words, someone who usually preferred to keep to himself. Quiet and maybe hard working, perhaps devoted when he set his mind to something. But he felt subtly assertive and authoritative at the same time; nothing obvious but she could discern some vibes carried across in undertones from his voice. Those were passable enough qualities from what she could gather, albeit his personality may be a little too arrogant and ominous from what she had gathered from that handshake. There was too much she couldn't pin down for her liking but it'll have to do. Straightening up, Caitlyn resigned to acquiring this new warden. She'd have to keep a close eye on him.

More importantly though, it was getting quite uncomfortable being pinned in so close by him.

"In that case, you will be starting tomorrow at six am sharp. Report back to me at the end of every day and we'll see you again here for a follow-up at the end of this month. That is all." Caitlyn waited expectantly for him to take his leave.

Thresh merely grinned again, leaning in even closer beside her, causing Caitlyn to suppress a flinch as she held her ground. His coat brushed against hers and his cool breath breezed over her neck.

"I look forward to meeting you again, Sheriff." He whispered in her ear.

Caitlyn stifled a shiver as he chuckled, backing away from her and dropping his arm. He turned around to leave, nonchalantly giving her a mock salute as he walked away, his chains scraping across the polished floor.

She was definitely not looking forward to seeing him again.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun peeked through the blinds as Caitlyn stirred, the light rousing her from her sleep.

Another Monday morning, the week had barely started and already she was not looking forward to it. She buried her face in the pillow and groaned, trying to ignore the obnoxiously cheerful beam of sunlight from the window shining on her face.

There was a stack of paperwork to deal with for the Warden, new leads to chase up on for a smuggling ring she had been keep a close eye on and ever more cases popping up that all seemed to tie to that girl. Jinx, they had dubbed her, due to the accursed luck of whomever was unfortunate enough to cross her path as chaos always followed in her wake. Then on top of that there were the daily summons that took up most of her mornings.

No point putting it off, she sighed into her pillow, summons waited for no-one.

She rolled over and propped herself up against the wooden headboard, running a hand through her tousled hair as she stifled a yawn. Dust motes drifted lazily in the ray of sunlight as she idly watched them swirling up the shaft of light. So much to get done this week. Probably will make a move on the smuggling ring and start collecting information on this Jinx girl. Just last week the power station had blown up and whilst the authorities had hurried to assure everyone that it was due to a gas leak, they had notified her of the _possibility_ of foul play. Much like how that unexpected ragging fire that burnt down half of Curtain street the week before was also _possibly_ foul play. Caitlyn frowned and massaged her temples. Oh yes, there were also that stack of papers to sort and send off. Those files for the warden could wait or maybe she'd get someone else to manage that; the less she saw him in person the better - ominous bother that he is. Maybe she could persuade Jayce to deal with them, he was probably more than capable of organising some files and delivering them to the warden.

Glancing at the clock, she realised she had spaced out for a good while and only had ten minutes to get ready before leaving to check in to the Institute of War.

Throwing off the covers and hastily putting on her uniform dress, gloves and usual knee-high boots, Caitlyn rushed out of her room. On second thought, she ducked back in and riffled through her wardrobe for an extra overcoat; it was chilly in the mornings and the cold wind bit at her exposed arms. Grabbing her hat and rifle off the chair, she snatched a toasted crumpet on the way out, juggling the three between her hands as she hurried down the stairs.

She greeted the hexsmith on her way down, giving his dog a quick pat on the head before collecting her daily package of ammunition and hightailing out of his shop; she had five minutes to get to the Institute and she had to get there early. There was going to be an announcement on another new patch of changes coming through, something that happened every few weeks or so. Jamming her hat on, Caitlyn dashed her way through the streets towards the Gateway Portal in the city center, a glowing disk of archaic magic not unlike the ones used to summon for matches which allowed for teleportation of sorts. A champion only mechanism, the Gateway Portal was a convenience allocated to the major city states by the summoners to allow for quick and easy travel to the Institute.

The Institute itself was a rather new accommodation to Valoran, having only relatively recently been implemented to sort out turmoil between differing factions.

Despite this, the outside of the towering building was already showing signs of wear, the spire edges rough and cracks were starting to creep through the dark granite walls, frost peppered over the surfaces. The carvings on the pillars lining the path to the building were already crumbling from the endless days of heat and cold. Two small fires burned feebly in little urns beside the doorway and the steps into the building were already well worn smooth.

There was a soft stirring in the air as Caitlyn appeared in front of the Institute, a few other champions also popping up around her. Entering the warm interior, Caitlyn had arrived just in time as a head summoner strode up to the elevated stone podium and greeted all the gathered champions in the hall. He breezed through the pleasantries, quickly listing out all the new changes that were to take place and any new rules introduced. Caitlyn listened half-interestedly; she knew the general gist of these meetings, a little buff here or there, mostly a nerf to something or other, sometimes a rework or two if they felt like being extravagant.

There was a shimmering in the air beside her as Soraka appeared, glints of scattered light dissipating around her.

Unlike most champions, Soraka had no particular need for Gateway Portals as her usual celestial home was both - in essence - everywhere and nowhere. This rendered her able to basically arrive anywhere in all of Valoran from directing where her world connected to this one. Unfortunately her ability to appear anywhere at will wasn't always perfect as Caitlyn recalled the last time Soraka had accidentally materialised in the Demacian Palace sauna whilst she had been there for a case. The male sauna...

A large smile appeared on her face when she saw Caitlyn, jumping in to unexpectedly hug her with happy enthusiasm. Caitlyn recovered from her recalling of that rather amusing and awkward event, returning the embrace before parting.

"Nice to see you again Soraka, how have you been?" Caitlyn inquired politely.

"It's been great." she chimed. "The new sanctuary you had allocated for me in Piltover is wonderful, it's just like home."

"That's good to hear. You visit so often it was obvious I needed to give you a suitable place to stay when you're here. I'm not too sure how the arcane magic and hextechery will fair up in the long run on keeping that place but it should last a good while. In any case, we're very grateful for your help and care in the hospitals, especially so seeing as things are starting to get chaotic around town." Caitlyn thanked her. Soraka smiled meekly, gratitude written over her face.

They turned back to face the front of the hall as the head summoner finished his speech, signalling behind him for the eminent start of the battles. Two guards proceeded to the very front of the hall where a large stone gate lead to the summoning chambers, unlocking the double doors. They slowly rumbled open as the gathering of champions filed through the doorway and through the dark hallways into the different branching chambers.

Caitlyn followed through, bidding Soraka goodbye and good luck before heading down towards the end of the hallway, turning left, then right after the third doorway and then proceeded to the second last door. This was the summoning chamber that had been allocated to her by the Institute. She pushed open the door, the summoning circle on the ground in the centre of the dark room already glowing and ready to use. Closing the door behind her, she took off her coat and chucked it on the chair beside the door.

Straightening her hat and double checking her rifle, she stepped into the circle, the lines pulsing at her contact and glowing brighter as rings surrounded her in a pillar of light.

With a final pulse of bright light, she vanished.

* * *

Panting, Caitlyn ducked into an inconspicuous bush by the river, praying to god that she had evaded them. Good thing she knew Summoner's Rift like the back of her hand. Couldn't say the same for some of the new blood around though, what with their tendency to facecheck bushes.

Pressing her back against the wall, she steadied her rifle against her shoulder as she reassessed the situation. That mess up was completely her fault, she had calculated that fight with Varus in her favour, yes, and had almost had him at her mercy. But then two members of their team had to suddenly appeared from behind her, turning the tables and forcing her to abandon the chase to stay alive. She had expected a gank, but for two of their members to appear down bottom had definitely caught her off guard and that was her failing. Oh she had seen the ward time out alright, but that was only mere few seconds before they came to gank - just pure bad luck. Either way, she should have accounted for _all_ possibilities and such impudence spoke of carelessness on her behalf - a bitter quality unfitting of her.

That gank had roughed her up pretty bad and she inspected the deep laceration that she had sustained across her stomach. The whole front of her dress had been shredded and the deep gouges were bleeding out, rivulets of blood seeping down and staining the purple fabric a dark ugly maroon.

Pity, she had quite liked this dress.

Cocking her head to one side, she could hear the faraway sounds of Gangplank's ultimate going off. Even if she had the damage to take out a member of the opposing team before one could say cupcakes, another suppress from Warwick and she was as good as dead and god knows where that damn wolf is. Probably frolicking with his kind in the wolf camp, damn mutt. Needless to say, Warwick had never really gotten off on quite the right foot with her.

Staying around was a very dangerous option. Not to mention in this current condition, any extended skirmish would not do her any good. Any extra strain she put on he stomach was going to add further to the deep wound there and death by internal bleeding could possibly be one of the most tragic ways to die in a match - if that was possible at all. That or to the wraith camp.

Judging from the ratio of her team members to theirs on field, her best bet was to return back to base.

Kneeling down on one knee, she shifted her gun to her right hand, preparing to recall.


	4. Chapter 4

_Fore-note: Summoner Rift discrepancies  
_

* * *

"Going somewhere, Sheriff?" a voice echoed to her mind from a spine chillingly close distance.

Caitlyn paused, calculating the chances of killing him or escaping.

This was not good. Definitely not good. Getting caught out was a classic beginner mistake, something she should _not_ be guilty of. But how the hell had he snuck up on her? She hadn't heard any approaching footsteps - there was only the soft clinking of chains and a cold aura emanating from right behind her.

And the voice itself was, unfortunately, all too familiar.

"Hello, Warden."

Caitlyn stood up and slowly turned around, hoisting her rifle and feeling the reassuring weight in her arms. She couldn't see him but she could definitely _feel_ him - he was no more than a few steps away, just outside the bush somewhere.

"Here to collect more for your quota today?"

Her voice was calm and level despite her racing mind beginning calculations on her options and their probabilities of success.

Unfortunately, in all cases the odds were not in her favour.

She _could_ covertly ping her team and call for reinforcement help but the last time she had checked, two of them were out of action and another was up top fending of a large wave of minions. She did not have teleport although even if she did, the chance of escaping with her life would still be slim during that four second channel time. Getting away was, at best, improbable no matter how she looked at it. He was too close for her to succeed in outrunning him and she had exhausted her flash _and_ barrier just not long ago against that gank.

"I wouldn't think about running if I were you,"

Thresh stepped into the bush, scythe and lantern swinging casually by his sides, the corner of his mouth curving slightly in a sly grin. Oh how she did _not_ miss seeing his irritating and, unfortunately, familiar smug face.

"Not in that lovely state."

Caitlyn glanced down and reflexively covered her vulnerable stomach with her arm. Ah yes, hard to forget she was still incapacitated with a gaping large gouge. Perhaps now would be a good time to employ some of Vi's choicest swear words.

"And what is your business _here_?" A blatant and silly question, but she wanted to stall for a little more time to thoroughly analyse all her escape options. Cursing would do her no good - it would only serve to reveal just how much of a rut she was in. Now was the time to think. Walk through all the options, simulate them, look for failing and openings.

"Shouldn't you be with your team?" her voice was scathing, trying to hide her uncertainty. Check for advantages and disadvantages. Weather, terrain, vision. Bush coverage and lines of sight. Blind spots.

Thresh chuckled before giving her a smirk.

"Only here to play, of course." _Two options dismissed - absolute death._

"You should know better than to _play _on the Fields of Justice. Leave that for your free time, Warden." Match of strength - dismal. Stamina - likewise. Intellect and cunning... not too useful here but possibilities there.

"Oh, but I've found myself something much more interesting to entertain myself with today." _Four options left - one absolutely no chance at all._

His smirk widened as his gaze drifted towards her stomach, where her arm was still covering her deep gash.

Cryptic nuisance. If it weren't for the fact he was actually had a use and was legally employed by her she'd probably send him off to the institute. The mental kind.

She shrugged before turning away, feigning ignorance at his probing gaze; it was unsettling to say the least. _Three options remaining - one much too high a risk. Possible payoff not worth the payment._

Caitlyn heard MIA pings coming up from her team but where she couldn't tell. It wasn't safe here with too many of the other team unaccounted for but how to get away from this damn nuisance? Accursed luck. Why of all people _him,_ the one person she couldn't read. Not yet anyways - she'll get through that enshrouding air of concealment some day, she'll see to that herself. _Personally_. But now, what now? Run. Yes. No. How else? Health low, mana reasonable. Cooldowns, cooldowns. Bushes. Routes. Back to bottom lane - no go. Enemy jungle - unaccountable, unknown, dangerous territory. Own jungle - safer. Feint and juke... Maybe...? Looks like only one even slightly viable options left - she shifted and tightened her grip on her rifle. Seems there was no other way.

"Sorry but, no hat tricks for you today Warden."

Caitlyn reeled around. With a swift, fluid movement of her arm, she flipped up her rifle and fired her signature ninety calibre net at him, recoiling herself a lengthy distance out of the bush. The chances of her escaping were slim but the element of surprise may work to her benefit and the net should slow the nutjob down too for good measure. Turning around, Caitlyn mustered the rest of her strength for the dash to the closest adjacent bush. If she could just get there with a burst of energy, there was a slim slim chance she could buy herself just a little more time. It would lose him vision and possibly allow her to juke away. Cooldown for the net was too long to be used again so quickly, only way to juke would be through running now. She clutched her stomach. Pray to god she had enough in her to make the juke, it was all or nothing.

She managed three full steps away before she felt a jolt of intense pain as Thresh's scythe came whipping out from the bush, hooking her by the waist and pulling her back. The tip of the scythe pierced into her already wounded stomach, causing an intense sharp pain to stab through her abdomen as her knees almost gave out.

She was about to gasp in pain when Thresh's hand came clamping down over her mouth, stifling her voice. Pure agony seared through her insides and for a second her vision blurred as the pain blanketed her senses. A scythe should not cause this much pain.

Roughly pulling her back into the bush, Caitlyn stumbled into him and land on her back, jarring her hip and dropping her rifle. He crouched down on one knee, hand still clamped over her mouth.

And just in time too.

There was a rush of footsteps as the rest of his team ran past, heading towards the dragon's lair.

In the silence that followed, Caitlyn could hear her own heart beat slowing down, a barely noticeable fluttering underneath the sensory overload from her abdomen which she was fighting to ignore. His grip was too tight. She was starting to run out of breathe and he did not seem to have any indications of releasing his hold; his hand was still firmly clamped over her mouth. Death by suffocation at the hands of _him_ would definitely be pathetic.

She fumbled around on the ground for her rifle before jamming it under his chin.

"Let go."

His hand muffled her voice making it unintelligible but the rifle rammed under his chin was more than sufficient in conveying the message.

He let out a quiet laugh and paused as if to savour the scene of Caitlyn sprawled on the ground, blood seeping into her clothes and onto the grass from her wound where his scythe was still embedded. She could feel herself losing hold of her rifle and her arm was starting to tremble; the pain was distracting, sapping her strength away and it was becoming hard to keep the rifle up. Pinpricks of light were dancing into her vision. Was it getting... darker...?

He smirked and released his grip.

Caitlyn gasped, unable to move for a few seconds as she lay collapsed against him, trying to flood her body again with much deprived oxygen. Squeezing her eyes shut she concentrated on filling her lungs as the little speckles of light swam off. Propping herself up shakily on her elbow, she gulped in a couple more shuddery breaths, each breath twisting a sharp pain from her stomach but she ignored it. Dear god air had never tasted sweeter.

When she had steadied her breathing again, she gave him a dirty look. The one reserved for the filthiest of scum that are always sentenced to death by her word.

"Did I make you breathless? My apologies, Sheriff." His mouth twisted into a grin

To hell with your apology, thought Caitlyn. If that grin was anything to go by, that bastard was far from sorry and enjoying this way too much.

She made a mental note to… _acquaintance _him with the law sometime in the near future.

Admittedly, committing a crime and possibly one as severe as murder would be against everything she ever lived and breathed by but she was sure she could make an _exception_ for him. She settled for unleashing a sting of profanities at him mentally. That was never going to happen, even if it was so incredibly tantalizing and tempting to maybe perhaps accidentally misfire a shot or seven at him some possible day in the future. The authorities would definitely not like that. Imagine the controversy of it all, she'd end up with all the other criminals she'd sentenced to jail. Not to mention the ton of paperwork she'd have to deal with for a murder case.

"Were you trying to save me there or kill me?" Her tone was icy as she massaged her jaw. Disgruntled, she tried to stand up, wincing with the sharp strain on her abdomen.

Thresh reached over and roughly pulled out his scythe from her stomach, causing her to stifle another gasp as a bolt of pain shot through her. Clutching her stomach, Caitlyn lent down heavily on her rifle to stop from doubling over, the new gush of warm blood seeping through her fingers. This pain... Caitlyn fought of a nauseating surge, desperately holding in her breath to stop the bile rising to the back of her throat. He held the sickly green scythe up to the light as if to admire the blood soaked tip before proceeding to wipe it on his cloak, seemingly oblivious to Caitlyn gritting her teeth and glaring daggers at him. If anything, it seemed to only amuse him more.

There was a soft scraping and clinking of his chains as he rose.

"Now why would I want to kill you, Sheriff?..." His cold voice had a tone of mild amusement but there was a hint of malice within.

Wasn't he done with her? She needed to recall.

Caitlyn tried to block out the pain but her efforts were weak and she could _feel_ her life dangling by a sliver of health. He eyed her in amusement - did he have no intention of killing her? Or did he just want to draw it out, savour and gloat over the kill like those other brutes? She couldn't fight anymore even if she wanted to, even if her mind screamed to retaliate and fight and not give in till her last breath. What use was there now? This was a closed case.

She shut her eyes, gritting her teeth for what would inevitably come.

She heard the clinking of his chains as he moved, a small chuckle escaping his lips, a mere few inches away from her. The rustle of a cloak, fabric shifting. Something passing by the air near her cheek. She tensed.

_Take it, take it all, end it already!_

Abruptly, pings went up from base and she jolted as something unexpectedly cold touched her cheek, her eyes flying open and seeing his pale face just an inch from hers. The corner of his lips twitched up and he smirked before withdrawing his hand away from her cheek, taking a few steps back as if leaving. The pounding of blood in her ears; so close to death already yet her heart refused to comply either - beating all the harder still. Why all this? The tension, the drawing out, the toying with her. Couldn't he just make his damn intentions clear like every other person?

Was he really done this time?

Caitlyn struggled up, taking a few unsteady steps back before her knee gave way and she collapsed down on it, left arm still clutching at her stomach. No time left to care - she had to recall. Now. She had almost no health left. The knuckles on her other hand were white from gripping her propped rifle so tightly as she tried to keep herself upright - she was going to collapse any second. Not too late, not too late. She could save herself in time. Hastily she began recalling, not caring if he changed his mind and tried to stop her. _God._

She threw him one last dirty look before disappearing.

Thresh chuckled, his cold laughter echoing his reply as he looked down at the key in his hand.

"…There are better things to do with you."

* * *

_Trying to make Thresh creepy/lecherous, not sure if I succeeded :/  
Also references and innuendos and whatnot everywhere~ XD  
_


	5. Chapter 5

Caitlyn ruffled her hair, rubbing it dry before draping the towel around herself.

She could always rely on a nice hot shower to wash away the nerves and stress of the day. The steam pampered her skin and the soothing patter of hot water always worked wonders in unknotting her tense muscles from a hard day's work on Summoner's Rift. You wouldn't believe how tiring it can be, chasing damn yordles around the bush.

Passing by the bathroom mirror, Caitlyn stopped to inspect the large gash on her stomach again.

Even if the fountain on Summoner's Rift could heal you up completely, it was only superficial; a deep gouge like that was going to take time to completely heal over. Good thing she couldn't feel pain from it anymore, the fountain had seen to that. The wound itself had closed over too but now it was starting to swell a little, the angry red slash a contrast to her pale damp skin. At least it wasn't a gaping bloody wound anymore.

Looking at it though, she couldn't help but feel a little irked; seeing it reminded her of her _'encounter'_ with Thresh in the morning.

Caitlyn scowled subconsciously as she changed into a light lavender bathrobe and walked towards the kitchen, her hair falling in damp locks over her shoulders. She had never interacted much with the Warden since their interview if she could avoid it but she had gathered enough of an impression about him to dislike him, more so now looking at her stomach.

If it weren't for his damned scythe she would've only had to nurse a shallow scar that would've faded in a day or two. Now she had to deal with this troublesome ugly gash that was sure to last for at least a week before it would disappear.

Cursing at him under her breath she slid her feet into a pair of warm slippers and maneuvered around her cluttered work desk towards the kitchen bench.

While most days mandated that she spend her time in the lavish office allocated for her by the Piltover Government Authorities, some days she just preferred the simple cosy atmosphere of her humble home a few blocks from her office where she could freely entertain her hextech hobbies.

It was a relatively small home on the second floor of a hexsmith shop, consisting of just a bathroom, kitchen and a living room-bedroom-workspace all rolled into one. Her footsteps pattered softly over the tiles in the kitchen as she busied herself with boiling the water for a cup of afternoon tea, rummaging through her cupboards for her old china teacup with a teaspoon dangling from a corner of her mouth.

The old kettle whistled and Caitlyn poured herself a cup of Piltover's Finest Tea, stirring in the milk and a good pinch of cinnamon for the added zing. Vi always had an issue with that, claiming that adding cinnamon to tea was 'downright psycho'. Then again, that could just be because she had downed a whole cup of it in one go, which had sent her off to the nearest sink.

She shuffled around some gears and gizmos and moved over the soldering iron, clearing a small space on her desk to place her cup. Sitting down, she absentmindedly cupped her tea, looking out the window overseeing the local market district.

Today was going to be a quiet day; she had fulfilled her daily summons, fixed Vi's right gauntlet and just yesterday had apprehended the local thief, who turned out to be none other than that sneaky little yordle Teemo. Granted that there was still the lead on that smuggling ring she had yet to follow up, the whole hullabaloo about that girl and a stack of paperwork to sort out for the Warden but she felt like she could do with a small break before getting stuck into business.

Perhaps she could even fit in a casual session at the local shooting range today; she had still yet to take up on Miss Fortune's friendly challenge. Lady Fortune wouldn't be much competition of course, not when she used such a haphazard method as firing everywhere. Even Soraka could hit a target with that method.

Not that she'd let her near any guns though, not after that catastrophe last time at the annual carnival with the Shoot-the-Poros fair game. That had been a right mess to clean up. And besides, her banana's hurt enough already. Caitlyn absentmindedly rubbed the back of her head, where Soraka had hit her earlier this morning in her third match. She was quite flustered and had apologised over and over again after the match, kind soul that she was, if a little clumsy.

She was just about to get up to change into uniform again, having decided that she would indeed pay a visit to the local shooting range, when there was a rapping knock on her door. Caitlyn's brow furrowed in irritation; she didn't get many visitors except for Vi and perhaps some authority personnel here to request her help in cracking some case or other, although she doubted it was either of them. Vi usually punched the door in, much to the landlord's chagrin, and the authorities new better than to disturb her after hours.

Slightly annoyed, she placed down her cup, adjusting the belt on her bathrobe before getting up to answer the door.

Caitlyn opened the door to find herself staring up into a pair of deep green eyes inches away. The sheer proximity bearing down on her and the damp smell of cold bluestone prisons affronting her sense forced her to take a step back. She stood there glaring at the unwanted visitor.

Caitlyn's hand still gripped the doorknob, ready to slam the door in his face, politely of course.

"What are you here for, Warden."

There was a clinking of chains as Thresh lifted his hand as if to stroke her hair, causing Caitlyn to flinch slightly. Her subtle discomfort at his presence seemed to only incite him more as he proceeded to take an unwelcome step forward and enter her home, his ominous presence draining the room and chilling the atmosphere.

He was standing too close in her personal space, much too close, and his height added to his intimidating aura.

"May I remind you that my office hours are from eight to four and that you are not welcome in my home?"

Caitlyn shifted her weight and stood up straighter, her body going into automatic sheriff mode as she readied herself for a confrontation.

Thresh flashed a predatory grin in reply, his eyes raking over her barely clad body, taking in her damp pale skin and dark locks, lingering at her stomach where her wound, the wound that he had so 'kindly' added to, was hidden behind her bathrobe. Caitlyn was most definitely not amused at having an unwelcome guest intruding on her and eyeing her like she was prey. The fact that this unwelcome guest was the Warden made it that much more disturbing.

She crossed her arms in a futile attempt to deflect his penetrating gaze.

"If you have nothing to do here other than bother me, may I suggest you get back in your prison? I'm sure the prisoners are missing you already."

There was a moment of silence as Thresh made no indication of having heard her. Caitlyn continued on rather testily.

"I'd hate to put a bullet through that nice coat of yours." her voice dripping with sarcasm. She shifted her weight to one leg, feinging reaching for her rifle.

"How cold." He mocked, finally responding to her.

Thresh slowly lifted his gaze to meet with hers. His intense glare, along with his general air of intimidation, made Caitlyn almost want to cringe away internally.

"Just here to drop off a little something, Sheriff. A present, if you will." Thresh replied, his dark voice carrying a mocking tone on the word 'Sheriff'.

Caitlyn eyed him warily. What vile trick did he want to pull this time?

Thresh smirked, as if reading her mind.

"No trick. Just this." At that he uncurled his fingers and dangled a key from his outstretched hand. Caitlyn recognised the key instantly, it was the key for Demacia's high security prisons that Jarvan had entrusted to her a few weeks ago. But how…?

"A little something I found on Summoner's Rift this morning."

Caitlyn instantly recalled that jarring fall that morning when he had pulled her into the bush and she had collided into him. It must have fallen off her belt then.

"We wouldn't want someone … _questionable_ to get their hands on the key to Demacia's dungeons now, would we, Sheriff?" His patronising tone was getting on her nerves. And how did he know that it was the key for the prison in Demacia?

She could feel that unsettling aura from him probing at her personal space; a trickle of caution told her to be weary but of what she couldn't name. Something about him was tinkling the alarm bells and she wanted him out of her house as soon as possible, preferably right now. After she got the key back that is.

She reached up to grab the key, only to grasp a handful of empty air as Thresh swiftly withdrew his hand. Caitlyn glared at him. If only looks could kill, this nutjob would be dead ten times over.

"Not even a thank you?" Thresh's tone was darkly humorous, if one could call it that. He smirked menacingly, seemingly taking endless enjoyment out of irritating her.

She hesitated, stalling against having to thank the likes of _him_, and for giving back something that was originally hers anyways. There was probably another way to get her key back as she glanced to his hand. Perhaps if she could distract him enough...

"Or shall we call this a… _favour_ you owe me?" his voice amused.

_Owing _him a _favour? _Definitely not that option.

"Why thank you." Caitlyn shot back sarcastically through gritted teeth, snatching the key out of his hand. "Now get out."

Thresh chuckled sinisterly as he turned around to leave.

"Always a pleasure to help you, Sheriff."

Caitlyn slammed the door shut, almost catching him by the heels. Thank god he was out of her house.

Leaning back against the door, she mentally berated herself. Somehow, her normally calm demeanour seemed to sometimes slip away in his presence and she despised how she appeared to have no control over it. She sighed, walking back to her work desk and picking up her cup of now lukewarm tea.

Maybe she really should go to the local shooting range and fire off some frustration.

What a damn bothersome headcase.


	6. Chapter 6

Caitlyn ended up visiting the newly opened Graggy Pub down by the port.

The original and best was still in Freljord but it had been going so well and business there had been thriving so Gragas had extended his pubs. Now there were Graggy pubs popping up all over Valoran, providing little havens where one could forget about the rivalry between the city states, where traveling Demacians could share stories with visiting Noxians over pints of Graggy Ice.

In all honesty she would not normally visit the pub but somehow she found herself siting at the bar table watching the ice melt in her glass of Rapture Rum, a little toast of sorts to Miss Fortune.

She had actually gone to visit the shooting range earlier in the afternoon but the attendant had informed her that Miss Fortune had left just a few hours ago to hunt down a pirate small fry that had been nicking Noxian birdfood supplies. She had stayed and shot off a few rounds for good measure but it didn't quite take out her frustration, especially when there was no competition around.

In the end she had wandered around town, casually patrolling the streets before deciding she should call it a night. She was on her way home, the shadows on the streets stretching as the sky became dark and the star rods flickered on when she passed by the pub.

Something about the warm glow coming from the windows, the hearty laughter and chatter coming from inside, seemed to beckon to her.

Perhaps a drink wouldn't be in bad taste, it could help to smooth away some of her irritation from the day.

Opening the door, she was greeted with a scene of blissful merriment.

There were citizens and champions alike, crowded around tables laughing and talking. A small band was playing jazz in the back corner and there was much jolly and drunken shouting. Many of the younger males wolf whistled at her entrance, some of them drunkenly bumbling over to make a pass at her.

"Won't you show us your guns eh?"

"Hey sugar, I lost my gun holster, can I use yours?"

Caitlyn brushed off the leery comments.

"Man, what I'd give to be under your gun."

"Damn, you can _arrest_ me anytime."

Caitlyn flashed a thin, reserved smile. Men.

"Sorry boys, I keep the fuzzy cuffs at home."

Warily manoeuvring her way around the brash group of bustling males and fending off some straying hands, Caitlyn made her way to the bar. She stood there for a moment, temporarily aimless, until a deep suave voice addressed her.

"Didn't think I'd be graced with the presence of Piltover's Finest Shot. At a bar, no less."

Caitlyn turn towards the voice. A hunched figure seated nearby in a trench coat. Fingers expertly flipping around a coaster. Cowboy hat covering his face.

"Twisted Fate?"

He tilted his head up, catching her eye.

"Care for a drink with me, little lady?" He smiled at her invitingly.

"That's Sheriff to you. What brings you here?"

Caitlyn sat down tentatively beside him, the high barstool providing an unfortunately good view of her slim legs. The bartender approached her and Caitlyn nodded for a glass of Rupture Rum.

Strange of him to visit, and here of all places too. Twisted Fate was not one to visit Piltover often and last time he did, she was up to her neck in paperwork about people being scammed. It had taken her a good deal of time to settle things down and sweep his antics under the rugs; things always got messy when champions were involved in wrongdoings.

"Just stopping by, thought I'd have a look 'round for some pretty ladies." He winked at her. She looked at him disapprovingly but he continued on.

"The gals here in Piltover are real beauties. Don't hold nuthin' to you though, gorgeous." He eyed her exposed thighs approvingly.

Caitlyn frowned and crossed her legs.

"Cut it, Fate, you must have other motives for coming here." She crossed her arms.

"Should I arrest you before you decide to con everyone again?"

Twisted Fate chuckled half-heartedly, taking another swig of his ale and putting his glass down rather heavily and sighing.

"Nope, ain't going to happen again. The Institute gave me a real grillin' last time." Fate looked at his glass, seemingly absorbed in regarding the light glinting off the rim.

"I'm just here for the dolls." His lips twitched in a half-hearted smile.

Caitlyn's sleuthing senses tingled; there was something about Twisted Fate that was a little different than usual.

He was still dishing out smarmy lines like always but there was something lacking behind it all. Normally his suave charms could soften even Lissandra's cold heart although that had never stopped her steamrolling over him in lane. Hell there have been times where she herself had felt roped in, a little less inclined to judge his mischiefs and overlook his questionable antics. But something about his overall charisma was a little off…

"It's hard to believe a notorious card shark like you would come here just to pick up girls."

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning and analysing his face, trying to discover his real intentions. A true card master as ever, his face revealed nothing. Twisted Fate glanced up at her and smiled faintly before turning back to his drink.

"Why else?" He paused, absorbed in his glass again. He swirled it around, watching the amber liquid inside whirl as the ice clinked against the sides until it stopped spinning.

"Surely that's not the only reason you came here. Why…?" Caitlyn let the sentence dangle tentatively.

Something was stirring behind that slipping poker face.

Guilt?

She tilted her own glass, watching the diamond clear liquid flow to the side before lifting it and taking a sip. There was pause of silence as if her words were traveling to him from a long distance away.

"Just…to get as far away as possible, drink away some sorrows surrounded pretty gals."

A flash across his face, just a brief glimpse.

Regret?

"What any man would do when…when…"

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Pausing, he held his breath as if struggling with himself before exhaling.

"When you get dumped by a beauty like her."

At that he downed the rest of his glass in one go, clucking the empty glass down heavily and shying his head away from her.

Caitlyn was a little surprised.

She'd figured it would've been guilt or remorse gnawing on his conscience, something like a crime he had - finally and for once - regretted or the likes.

Not a… _breakup_. The rumours around Valoran were that he and Evelyn got on like a house on fire; they were an envied couple by many. And to find out that they had suddenly split, well that was just…

To think that even a man like him could be reduced to this state from a breakup, she had to admit, she did feel a little sorry for him. Guess we're all human after all.

They sat there in silence for a while, enclosed in their own world as people bustled around them obliviously, shouting and laughing and intoxicated with merry bliss.

Caitlyn averted her gaze, feeling like she was intruding in on his personal life too much. She quietly called for another drink, finishing the rest of her glass in one go. The initial weariness she had about him had been replaced with something else; she felt a little more tranquil now, the crystal liquid working its magic as she considered this man before her.

Looking at him sunk so low, nothing like the former heartbreaker he used to be, it was almost a pitiful image. She kind of wanted to comfort him, if only a little. It just… it wasn't right to see him like this. A Twisted Fate without his playboy antics was as foreign a concept as well… Kog Maw not liking food – it was inconceivable.

There was a warm feeling animating her body but her mind felt slow and fuzzy as she tried to comprehend this different Twisted Fate before her. She was thrown off by this man; she was used to dealing with the Card Master, the playboy scammer, the charming conman that is Twisted Fate, not this… this_ person_ before her.

Hesitating, she placed a gentle hand lightly on his shoulder, not quite sure what to do.

Twisted Fate turned a little towards her in quiet acknowledgment, his head still bowed and eyes downcast; still lost in his own thoughts. There was an air of raw tenderness lingering around them, secluded in their own world.

Caitlyn could feel something drawing her in towards him. Maybe it was his crestfallen face or the air of anguish around him and his dejected posture compelling her.

Yet at the same time, she was afraid about doing anything to provoke him; he looked like he could break down any minute. She hesitated, torn between comforting him or leaving him to while away his sorrows.

Cautiously, she reached out and tenderly cupped her hand against his cheek, lifting his head a little.

Her skin thrilled at the touch, the contact urging her on more, disregarding her inhibitions at her actions possibly adding to his pain. She smiled a small faint smile at him comfortingly, trying to ease away some of his unhappiness. He made no indication of resisting as she gently smoothed the tired lines under his eyes with her thumb, caressing away the dark circles under his eyes and the weariness etched on his face.

He sighed quietly and she felt a little of the tension leave his body.

She inched a little closer, arm sliding along the bar table and her body tilting forward. Brushing aside his hair, she stroked his cheek, feeling his cheekbone and the curve his angular jawbone. He lifted his gaze, his eyes full of sad longing as he met her eyes. She could see his sorrow was genuine - his eyes said it all.

But she didn't expect his gaze to be… _hungry?_

His gaze, the intensity from his deep brown eyes caused a small shiver to run down her spine.

She had only wanted to comfort him, take away some of his anguish. Bring back a little of the familiar Twisted Fate, the old charisma that he was. But she wasn't expecting this feeling…

She was the officer, yet here she was being the interrogated one. He was the detective now, his eyes searching hers, his piercing gaze questioning her. Looking for a validation. It was a gaze of...

Caitlyn could feel a strange clenching feeling in her heart as heavy heat slowly spread from her chest, flushing across her body. This wasn't what she was expecting, this vulnerable feeling, like nervousness yet…

Reaching up he cupped his hand over hers and tenderly removed her hand, his hungry eyes never leaving hers as he leant in towards her. She felt a little jolt at his touch, her heart beating a little faster as a subliminal feeling of anticipation ran through her body.

This… did he….?

Her fingertips felt electrified, she felt the smoothness of his cheek, the coarseness of his hair and now, as he clasped her hand in both of his, the roughness of his skin, the arches of his hands and the warmth from his palms burning up her arm. She knew what would happen, knew how this went. Desire flickered between his blue eyes and she could feel it too, could feel an echoing of his longing. There was something unsaid between them yet in this moment they were linked, tethered by understanding. She drifted in a mesmerised state, leaning in subconsciously, drawn in. Someone was breathing heavily and it took her a second to realise it was herself, her breath becoming short and shallow, hitching in her throat.

She should resist, this was not for her. He wasn't seeing her through is eyes, he was seeing _her. _

Caitlyn could feel his breath on her lips as she closed her eyes, his hand lifting up to stroke her cheek, sending another shiver down her spine, his touch leaving a blazing trail across her skin. He ran his hand through her soft hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

Why wasn't she resisitng?

His hand drifted down, softly brushing her skin, tracing a tantalising path down her neck as she shivered again, this time noticeably so.

Did she want…?

Releasing her hand, he reached up to tilt her chin, gently inclining her towards him. His breaths were becoming shallow like hers, giving in to a mindless desire, an all-consuming surge or rawness that flowed between them. She felt his lips brushed across hers before he…


	7. Chapter 7

BANG!

Caitlyn's eyes flew open as she shot out her arm reflexively for her rifle, only to be met with Twisted Fate's grip as his arm blocked her from her rifle, his face inches from hers. The rim of his hat shielded his eyes but his voice was low, regretfully whispering to her.

"This one's not for you, little lady."

"Why…how...?" She protested.

Her mind was spinning and she couldn't link her thoughts together, trying to make sense of what was going on. Damn it, where was her sharp sense and quick mind? Twisted Fate seemed to be in control of the situation though, his manner calm and collected, as if had known this would happen.

He gave her a small dejected grin before backing away from her, his face betraying a moment of tiredness before it disappeared. Letting go of her arm, he gestured for her to turn around, the ephemeral chains shattering as all feelings from before evaporated. Caitlyn took a moment to recollect her thoughts, her judgement still crooked.

Turning towards the source of the interruption, Caitlyn found herself squinting through a fading smokescreen as a tall figure strode forward, the bar having gone silent at the sudden demolition of half the wall. Twisted Fate picked up the coaster from his glass, concealing it in his sleeve as he took a step towards the intruder, his poker face revealing nothing.

"You never make a quiet appearance, eh? It's always the same show."

As the rest of the smoke cleared out, Caitlyn could clearly see who it was, her reasoning and state of mind settling as she fought off the clouding haze in her head. A deep gruff voice cut through the bar.

"I think we have a little something long overdue to settle, Fate."

Graves hoisted up his shotgun, aiming it directly towards Twisted Fate at point blank range.

"Something I've been lookin' forward to since I got out."

"You wouldn't really want to start this in a bar now, things will get…messy." Twisted Fate grinned faintly at him, his face unreadable.

"Messy… for you." Graves cracked open the barrel and reloaded his shotgun, taking aim.

Caitlyn stood up uncertainly, reaching for her rifle, unsure as to what to.

It was well known Graves had history with Twisted Fate, they had their whole bad-blood and vendetta thing going on. He wouldn't possible start a fight in such a crowded place, would he? She'd seen the damage that enhanced hextech shotgun could do, it wouldn't take much for Graves to blow out the pub and its surrounding houses in his fit of revenge. Did he really not care about there being other people here?

The two men eyed each other off.

If they were going to fight here they'd injure innocent civilians, the street would be utterly destroyed. These people, they could get hurt, she couldn't stand by and watch them become unwittingly involved. She took a step forward, ready to intervene.

Twisted fate held out his arm, blocking her.

"You don't need to get involved in this." He whispered quietly. She eyed him sceptically but he could tell what she was concerned about.

"I promise no-one else will get hurt." He reassured her. She caught a glimpse of fierce determination in his eyes before it vanished. Her judgement wavered.

"Enough with your flirting, pretty boy." Graves growled impatiently.

Before anyone could react, he opened fire, two shots whizzing past Caitlyn and destroying the side of the bar table in an instant, glass shattering and the wooden table splintering and cracking. The bartender dove behind the remainder of the table as people shouted and backed away from Graves. Shocked, Caitlyn turned to see what had happened to Twisted Fate. From his calm demeanour, he had experienced this situation many times before as there was not a single scratch on him, not a hair out of place. He was known for his reflexively fast speed after all, and it seemed like he had dodged both bullets at point blank range, his pose no different from before.

"Well then." He turned back to face Graves, his body tensing in retaliation.

"Let's get this show on the road."

Graves' finger twitched, barely perceptibly, on the trigger.

Before she or Graves could react, Twisted Fate flung out his hand with blinding speed, the coaster shooting from his sleeve and impacting dead centre on Graves' chest with such force that he was stunned and knocked back a step, the gun frozen in his hand and his finger locked on the trigger. Looking closer, Caitlyn saw remanent wisps of yellow magic emanating from Grave's chest as his face contorted in a struggle.

She had to hand it to him, that coy scammer had been imbuing the coaster with his magic whist he was dawdling for time. Twisted Fate took a swift step forward, grabbing Graves by the collar as if he was about to punch him. Caitlyn reached out to stop him but pulsating yellow rings emanate from where they stood, growing brighter and enveloping both Graves and Twisted Fate in a pillar of constricting light. She realised what he was doing just before he disappeared as he turned to face her, casting an apologetic glance.

"Sorry, Caitlyn." An apologetic faint smiled played on his lips. "Maybe next time." He winked half-heartedly.

With a final pulsing glow, both Graves and Twisted Fate vanished up in a beam of light.

The silence in the bar slowly dissipated as people started to murmur again quietly, talking and chatting again, the bar staff frantically running around to deal with the damaged wall and broken bar table before the boss got word of it, as if mending destroyed furnishings were a common thing in this bar. As the minutes ticked by, everyone went back to their shouting and drinking, the band starting up again and jazz filled the room once more.

Caitlyn sat back down, blankly staring at her empty glass and wondering what the hell had almost happened.

* * *

_Tbh it went kinda tf x caitlyn-y here. :/ Consider it filler of sorts, was kind of practicing writing a more romantic-y scene._  
_Sorry but mid semester break has ended and schools started plus exams coming up so will probably go on hiatus till after exams. Hence a double chapter post. _

_Note, i will be doing some editing of previous chapters though. _

_Also, it's been pointed out that my chapters seem to be a little on the short side so will work on improving that._


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